


See in the Dark

by wherewolf



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherewolf/pseuds/wherewolf
Summary: Prompto just wants to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



Prompto woke up to the sound of the tent unzipping for the third day in a row. Even before they'd been stuck in this particular Haven, searching Fociaugh Hollow for days, he'd become familiar with the sound, enough so that he no longer sat upright in alarm in the disorienting second where he wasn't sure exactly where he was. Instead he stretched his arms out, enjoying the extra space without Gladio's huge shoulder in the way. Turning his head the other way, he saw that Ignis was gone too – probably who he'd heard leaving. Gladio always got up the earliest of them all, eager to get his morning run in even if that meant he had to do tiny laps around the Haven instead of getting to forge a real route.

Prompto had run with him a few times, and he knew he should keep up the routine of running in general, but he figured all the monster-fighting they inevitably got involved with was enough exercise to compensate. Besides, these days he had a better way to spend the morning. 

He wiggled out of his sleeping bag, not bothering to get all the way up, and walked on his knees over to Noctis, who was still dead to the world on top of his own bag. He was lying on his back with his arms stiff at his side, way more formal in sleep than he ever was awake. Prompto had joked before that Noctis slept like he was ready for his own funeral, but Ignis hadn't found it funny, so he'd cut that out fast. And these days he didn't resemble a corpse so much – at least those had peaceful expressions. Noctis slept with his face twisted into a tight frown even when the rest of him was relaxed. 

Prompto studied that face in the bare light of the tent light clipped above their heads. Noctis looked tense and worried, like he usually did these days when no one was annoying him out of it. Prompto knew his father's death weighed on him heavily, but he wondered if there was something else going on too. After that first awful day when the news broke, Noctis had clammed up entirely, so it was hard to tell. And now he seemed literally sealed shut, his jaw clenched so tightly Prompto swore he could hear his teeth grinding. He stared at the set of Noctis' mouth and itched to reach out and touch it.

Maybe if things were different, or if Prompto was a different person, he could do that, and then gently shake Noctis awake. Noctis would open his eyes wearily, like he was already tired, but when Prompto asked him what was wrong, he'd tell him. And then even though Prompto couldn't fix any of the it, Prompto would be able to listen, and that might make things a little bit better. 

But they weren't like that, and Prompto had made peace with the fact that they weren't like that before they'd even started dating (or, “dating”). So instead Prompto swung his knee over Noctis and put his whole weight right on his ribs. 

Noctis made a very entertaining squeaking noise that morphed into a strangled noise of protest as he woke up. “Prompto, why,” he complained, trying to shove Prompto off of him with one hand, which Prompto easily evaded by leaning back a little. Noctis could have gotten rid of him a lot more effectively by bucking, but then, Noctis wasn't really the sharpest in the morning. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Prompto said (well, sang). “It's a rainy and awful morning, just like all the others have been, and we're ready to rumble!” He trailed his hands down Noctis' chest, slinking down his body at the same time until he was at eye level with his crotch. 

“Ugh, why,” Noctis groaned, but he helped Prompto tug his pants down his hip, and groaned in an entirely different way when Prompto started mouthing the head of his dick. “Fuck, Prompto...” 

Prompto smiled as he felt Noctis' hand touch his hair, stroking it briefly before grabbing tightly. He would bet that Noctis wasn't frowning now. 

Maybe Noctis would never tell him what was going on in his head, but that was something Prompto would have to be okay with. He'd help Noctis in any way he let him help, for as long as he could.


End file.
